Chapter 59
SINN'OUS
“I choose if we fuck, yes?” The question comes out of nowhere. His boy’s words oddly strong and unwavering in their resolve .
Sinn'ous had been mildly curious why Izz initiated an invite to the table he’d been seated on in the Rec-Room.
A card game with Reni’s clique set out over the scuffed surface.
He’d gone when beckoned, drawn in by a desire to see what angle Izz was playing at.
Unbeknown to the rest of the table’s occupants, until he sat, and the tension sparked into an ice-cold wave of dread.
And now, couple by his boy’s words, he’s more than mildly curious.
The collective hitch of breath doesn’t distract from his unwavering focus on Izz. It’s a fight in dominance against himself to steel his expression to give nothing away.
“You do,” Sinn'ous confirms.
“You’d protect me? Even if I told you right now that I don’t want to fuck, ever again.”
His carefully calibrated mask slips, and a genuine half smile cracks over it. It’s the barest of twitches in his lips, and he’s sure Izz hadn’t seen it.
He can see though. See what his boy is doing. The game that they are now playing.
Leaning back in the flimsy chair, he brushes his leg against his boy, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why would I be so shallow as to exchange sex for protection. Only a naive fool would think that way.”
Izz doesn’t appear able to control his amusement.
Waggling his eyebrows at the collection of men sitting around the table.
All of whom have comically wide eyes. Their reactions are boring, uninteresting.
He didn’t come here for anyone but Izz. And it’s high time he got back to his purpose of retrieving his boy.
“As much as this consent conversation has been thrilling,” Sinn'ous states dryly. “I’m getting food. You coming.” He’s not asking and his boy better know not to push him on this.
Sinn'ous rises to his full height, and is followed closely by his boy. Good. He’d hate to have to remind Izz of his status. Not when the trust he is building is so fragile.
Moving without a word, his ears track his boy trailing after him.
Izz practically skips down the corridor. Every bit the trusting fawn he arrived at Sandstone Correctional as.
“Care to share what your little stunt was all about,” Sinn'ous grips Izz’s elbow to still the jumping movements. Corralling Izz to his side to divert his boy from colliding with a wall. A giant inanimate object Izz had clearly missed seeing.
He bites back the sigh threatening to explode out his chest.
“They think I’m gullible and being manipulated by you into sexual acts I don’t want to do.” Izz’s brows crease into a confused frown, staring hard at Sinn'ous’s hand as if he doesn’t know when it got there.
They’re correct, in a way, the sex hadn’t been part of the plan.
The plan had been to kill you. But now, I don’t want you dead, I want you in my hands begging me to hurt you.
“You seemed pretty fond of what I was doing to you,” Sinn'ous spins the narrative back into his control. A neatly worded statement that places the answers into his boy’s head. That it was Izz’s idea. That he is in control. All fake of course. But that’s the whole point.
A submissive who thinks it’s his idea. Not the carefully calibrated influence of an outside force.
Releasing Izz’s arm, Sinn'ous moves to put space between them, but Izz steps in close, practically using him as a crutch to walk.
Those pain pills must be working.
“Oh, I am,” Izz sticks his hand into Sinn'ous’s pocket, and he gives his boy a look that he knows has cracks everywhere. But he can’t help the puzzled amusement the action brought out of him. “And I want to do them again. The guys were being dicks about it, that’s all. And no, you can’t kill them.”
At that, Sinn'ous genuinely chuckles, “wasn’t planning on it.” He hadn’t been. But he is thinking about it now.
“Oh, please,” Izz draws out the last word, voice dripping with played up sarcasm. “As if you wouldn’t spontaneously kill someone.” He rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, “making out like you need a plan.”
His boy stumbles, tripping on nothing, and glaring at his feet.
Yes, those pills are definitely working. Perhaps a little too well.
“I think those drugs you took are working,” he advises softly, redirecting Izz from walking right past the cafeteria doors.
“What? Why? What makes you say that?” Izz lists to the side while he’s spewing his denial.
Raising his brow at the obvious signs to his drawn conclusion, he gives his boy a light shove at the cafeteria doors. Encouraging him to continue without using words.
Izz does, but not before waving a hand in Sinn'ous’s face, in a dismissive gesture. “Pfff. They are not. I’m completely normal.”
“Indeed,” Sinn'ous states flatly. Stepping into the cafeteria after his wobbling boy.